Reckless
by Thunder-Nari
Summary: ScottDuncan. Scott loosens up a bit.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Don't own X-Men, Marvel and WB does.

Wow, long time since I've really written an evo story. Odd paring yes, but I was bored and it was fun. There is another part planned since me and one chaptered stories apparently don't like each other. Ah well. I haven't given up on my other stories yet for those who might be wondering. I'm working on the next chapter of Out of the Shadows right now. Thanks to Lizz for the beta read. Please enjoy, leave a review, they're like life support.

Reckless    
Nari

He sighed to himself.  God, why did he let Jean talk him into these things?  Because he'd never be able to refuse her.  Would he jump off a bridge if she were to ask him to?  Probably.  That's how deep he was in.  Then again, throwing himself headfirst off a bridge would be far preferable to this.

He realized that he'd been standing, unmoving, next to his car door.  Another sigh and he stepped through the fairly crowded parking area, towards the large mansion.  If his feet dragged a bit, it certainly wasn't because he wanted to turn around and go back to the Professor's mansion.  Really.

All too soon and he was at the door.  He shook the reluctance off and slipped on the confidence that he could wear perfectly in situations like this.  In other words, situations that he didn't want to have anything to do with.  Stealing himself for what, or who, he might see inside he opened the door.

Only to see an empty room.  Huh.

Shrugging he stepped in, walked to the middle of the room.  Maybe Jean had gotten it wrong and there was nothing going on tonight.  In which case he was going to feel like an idiot but it would be worth it if it meant he didn't have to hang out with Duncan. Then he heard voices from down the hall.  Strange, usually the party was held here in the main front room.  With a slight frown he followed the voices down a hallway and to one of the smaller, although still substantial, rooms.

The door was opened so he poked his head in to look around.  Here was the crowd of people he had been seeking.  All bunched around a TV, laughing loudly.  He didn't see any sign of Jean so wandered over to the group.

Once he had managed to push his way to the couch he finally realized what was going on.  Shot glasses lined the table and those sitting on the couch were clearly in the beginnings of a drinking contest.

It was definitely time that he got out of here.  He still didn't see Jean, though, and he wasn't about to leave without her.  Nor was he going to leave even if she wasn't here on the chance that she might show up.

Moving along behind the couch, a couple people having to move unhappily out of his way, he made his way to where the reason for all this insanity was sitting.  Duncan.  Scott tapped Duncan's shoulder to get his attention.  Duncan looked none to pleased when he turned his head and saw who was standing there.

"What's up, Summers?" he growled.

Scott ignored the venom in his tone.  "Is Jean around?"

"Not yet."

Scott frowned.  He'd stay until Jean got here then make her leave with him.

He watched as those seated on the couch each took another shot.  Judging by the empty glasses they'd each already had a couple.  More than enough for lightweights, which they undoubtedly were, to get, at the very least, tipsy.   This was proven when Duncan picked up another shot glass and waved it, supposedly temptingly, at Scott.  Scott raised an eyebrow.

"Think you got what it takes, Summers?"

"I don't think so."  Said in a tone that brooked no arguments.  Not that Duncan ever actually listened to him.

"Not that you'd ever have a hope in hell of beating me."

Scott rolled his eyes.  "Give it up, Duncan; I'm not drinking with you."

"Pity.  Would have been interesting to see if you were even capable of getting that stick out of your ass and actually unwinding."

God how he hated hearing that.  He wasn't an idiot, contrary to what most people seemed to believe.  He knew what people, even his apparent friends, said about him.  To have it stated so bluntly in front of his face, and then having to listen to the people around him snicker and make other similar comments, galled him.  His day had already been bad enough.  He didn't need this.

With a fierce scowl, he grabbed the shot glass out of a surprised Duncan's hand and slammed it back.  Instantly doubled forward coughing.  Hardly the impression he'd meant to make.  It got the message through though.  Someone clapped him on the back and told him to breath.  Those on the couch shuffled over to make room and he took a seat next to Duncan.   
Duncan grinned and held out two shot glasses to him, presumably so that he could catch up with the others.  He took one of them and knocked it back as well.  Managed to keep the coughing to a minimum.  The third one went the way of the other two and by then he had the knack for it.  He grimaced at the burn but didn't attempt to hack up a lung.

The others picked up another glass from the table.  He took a deep breath and did the same, the movement making him realize that he already wasn't feeling overly great.  This was just great, with his metabolism which, like Kurt's, was faster than a normal humans, he was going to be wasted in no time.  Was, in fact, already more than halfway there.  But the least he could do was put on a good show.  He took the fourth shot along with the others.  Grimaced and barely managed to keep it down, God this stuff was terrible.

He turned his head to glance at the others and swore the world tripped around him.  Funny since he was sitting down at the time.  A broad hand was on his back, steadying him and he felt thankful for it.  There was laughter in his ear; come to think of it there was laughter all around him.

"Falling out already, Summers?"

He shook his head, negative, and instantly regretted it.  Another hand was on his shoulder and pushing him back against the couch.  Good thing because he was sure that otherwise he would have managed to topple of the couch.  Not that he believed Duncan was looking out for his well-being.  More than likely he just wanted to make sure that Scott didn't upset the shot glasses if he fell.  A bark of laughter and Duncan clapped him on the shoulder.  The world swam for a moment.

"…Please, don't do that."  Or he was going to be making a run for the bathroom.  Yet more laughter and another shot glass was shoved into his hand.  He assumed he was meant to drink it so he did.  Watched as the others did the same.  They all seemed to be handling it fine.  The whole 'I'll show them a thing or two' idea, really didn't seem to be going all that well.  He shrugged, ah well.

A moment later and he noticed Duncan was watching him, probably saying something.  "What?"

Duncan rolled his eyes and seemed to tip to one side a bit at the action.  Of course it could have just been Scott that was tipping.  "I was asking if you were going to be sick, Summers."

And, apparently, it was him that was tipping because that hand was back on his shoulder and holding him upright.  Scott glared and shrugged the hand off.  "I'm fine.  And quit calling me that."

Duncan shook his head as he turned away.  He actually did sway that time.  Ha, Scott wasn't the only drunk one around here.  God, the Professor was going to kill him.  He let his head flop onto the back of the couch and closed his eyes.  Less than a minute later and Duncan was nudging his arm.

"You out?"

He didn't raise his head.  "No."  As he reached a hand out for the next glass.  He was just raising it to his lips, or making a valiant attempt to at least, when something shrieked at him from the doorway.

"Scott, what do you think you're doing?"

He yelped and practically tossed the shot glass away from him in an effort to get rid of the evidence, glancing fearfully over to where Jean stood glaring at him.  Then there was a thunk and the sound of Duncan cursing.  He couldn't quite stifle the chuckle that wanted to escape.

Jean didn't seem to think it was so amusing.  She stood by the door and tapped her foot, ready to rip someone's head off.  Probably Scott's.  He cleared his throat and tried to think.  What was the question?

"Yes."  It seemed like a good answer.  Never disagree with Jean; therefore the answer had to be yes.  Only apparently not because she just scowled more.   "Uh…"

"I can't believe you.  How much have you had to drink?"

He blinked at her a moment, then glanced down at the table laden with shot glasses.  "Not much."

She looked as though she didn't believe.  Scott couldn't really blame her.  Much to his relief though, her attention shifted to Duncan.  Scott could practically feel Duncan straighten up a bit from behind him.

"And you," she started, "I can't believe you could be so irresponsible as to start this."

Scott raised a hand slightly and spoke up.  "I can."  Duncan thumped him on the back of the head.  Jean's attention went right back to him and made Scott wish that he hadn't said a word.  "Um…"

"I can't believe this.  Both of you!"  Her voice raised an octave.  Scott winced slightly, now she was really mad.  Probably best to start on damage control now.

"Jean, wait, it's-" was as far as he got before he tried to stand up and the floor came up and smacked him in the forehead.  That or he had tripped.  He really doubted his plea of 'I'm not drunk' was going to stand up now.  Maybe if he laid here and pretended to pass out he'd be able to avoid her wrath for now.

No such luck of that happening though as he could feel someone start to kick his leg.  With a glower he turned his head enough so he could see Duncan.  Who looked at him innocently, if such a thing were even possible.   Ignoring him as best he could he tried to look placatingly up at Jean who was standing over him angrily.

As he pushed himself back to his feet figuring it would be easier to stand up to Jean if he were looking down at her.  More wishful thinking.  He finally noticed how silent everyone else had become.  They were probably all waiting for her to slap him.  The way things were going she probably would.

"…Jean-" he started but was abruptly cut off.

"I don't want to hear it, Scott.  I can't believe you of all people would act like this.  You're supposed to be more-"  It was his turn to cut off her angry tirade with one of his own.

"I'm supposed to be more what, Jean?  More responsible, more sensible, more uptight?"

"More intelligent."

He rolled his eyes.  "Why should I have to be the one that's got to do everything right, every single time?  Why should I be the one that's supposedly got a rod shoved perpetually up his ass?"  Duncan snickered from behind him.

"Scott!"

"Forget it, Jean.  I'm sick of it."

"You're acting like a child throwing a tantrum.  This isn't the way to go about changing things."  She shook her head in disappointment.  "I would have expected more from you than this, Scott.  When you come to your senses…just stay away from me."

She turned and walked away, out of the room.  Instead of going after her, Scott watched her leave, still angry but feeling the first stirrings of shame.  Duncan, though, was already hot on her heals, very nearly begging forgiveness.  Scott wished him luck if only because he knew there was none to be had.

Ignoring the others that figured the excitement was over, all highly upset that no one was injured Scott suspected, he turned and headed out onto the balcony only swaying a bit.  Once outside he leaned against the railing, looking out over the pool and the yard.

Of course everyone expected him to be more or do more.  Didn't they ever think that maybe they were expecting too much?  How was he supposed to hold it together when everyone was demanding more than he could give?  The Professor expected him to show perfect control, the team expected him to be an infallible leader; Jean just wanted him to be some kind of perfect gentleman.  No one could do or be all that at every moment.

With a sigh he dropped his head into his hands wishing he could bring back the joviality from only a short time ago.  Maybe if he threw himself back into the drinking contest but he didn't particularly feel like joining the crowd anymore.  Any chance he had had with Jean had pretty much just gone down the drain.  He crushed the fleeting relief that came with the thought that at least there was one less person he had to try so hard with.

Like Duncan, who's heavy tread he could hear approaching him from across the balcony now.  Duncan he didn't have to try with.  Didn't have to be absolutely perfect.  Of course there was their rather petty rivalry and always trying to best the other.  But it didn't have anything to do with Duncan himself.  They battled to show who was best to impress Jean.  Rivalry over a girl that Scott was quite sure wouldn't have anything to do with either of them after tonight.  Maybe they could even get along now.

Duncan stood beside him now, leaning against the railing as well.  "How you doin', rod-boy?"

With a roll of his eyes, Scott retracted his last thought.  God, how he hated this guy.  "Get lost, Duncan."  With that he turned and began to walk away, not really know where he was heading but not wanting to deal with Duncan's attitude.

Duncan grabbed hold of his arm before he could get more than two steps, practically spinning Scott back to face him.  Again the world tripped and Scott found himself completely off balance and falling forward.  Instead of hitting the ground this time he was caught by strong arms that hoisted him back to his feet.  He glanced at Duncan, who still had hands on his arms to make sure he was steady, before shrugging him off and standing on his own, if a little awkwardly.

"You okay, Summers?"  He sounded a little smug.  Over what, Scott had no idea.  He only nodded in reply, not feeling up to talking at the moment.  He was never going to understand why people insisted on doing this for pleasure.  "Never figured you for such a klutz."

He practically sneered.  "Screw off, Duncan."  Hands placed firmly on Duncan's chest Scott gave him a hard shove, intending to get him to back off.  Duncan did stumble back, being less than sober himself.  The unexpected side effect was that Scott went with him having put too much weight into the shove and then suddenly losing the support.

He fell forward against Duncan, who - having already been knocked off balance - crashed the rest of the way to the floor.  Scott went down with him and they ended up in an ungainly heap on the ground.  Head pillowed quite comfortably on Duncan's chest, he really didn't see any reason to move.  The alcohol seemed to hit him in a rush and he wanted nothing more than to stay in this position for the night and pass out.  Duncan didn't seem to be protesting as he stayed on his back the way he had fallen.

A moment later Duncan still hadn't made any move to shove Scott off and Scott began to get a little worried.  He shifted until he was looking down at Duncan's face in concern.

"…Duncan?  Are you okay?"

Duncan's eyes snapped open rather abruptly 'causing Scott to cry out in surprise and Duncan to jerk his head back with a crack into the floor.  Scott cringed at the noise.  Duncan groaned slightly.

"Well, I'm not okay now, Summers."

Scott tried his best to look repentant.  "Oops."

Duncan just looked at him for a moment, clearly not impressed.  Then he smirked slightly. Scott raised an eyebrow, that couldn't be a good look. "You comfortable, Summers?"

"What are you talking about?"  Duncan twisted slightly under him with a just this side of manic grin.  "Oh.  Right." Suddenly Scott was perhaps a little too comfortable.  Friction with Duncan.  A whole new type of friction with Duncan.  God that was so wrong.  It had to happen again.  He dropped his forehead to Duncan's shoulder and closed his eyes, waiting for the momentary feeling to go away.

Duncan raised a hand to run down his back, resting it so his fingers were lightly splayed over the swell of his buttocks.  Well, this certainly wasn't helping to make things go away.  He thought briefly about protesting or maybe just shoving himself away from Duncan, after all it didn't exactly seem proper that he was sprawled on the balcony floor with the guy that was supposed to be his mortal enemy.  Or something.

He didn't have the chance to do much of anything though because the next thing he knew he had been flipped over onto his back and Duncan was looming over him, his weight pressing him to the floor.  He waited a moment for the room to stop spinning, eyes shut.

Once the room felt steadier he let his eyes slip open again, lifting his head and looking up at Duncan who was looking down at him.  An instant later he got an idea and grinned at Duncan as he twisted under him.  Sweet revenge.  Which backfired on him the moment he did it since it felt just as good to him as to Duncan.  He groaned, felt Duncan do likewise, and dropped his head back to the floor, closing his eyes again.

This was feeling far too good.  Then Duncan shifted, sliding his thigh between Scott's, and things felt even better.  Duncan obviously thought so as well because he started a slow rocking, almost grinding against Scott's leg.  He practically growled his frustration and hooked a leg behind Duncan's, pulling it a bit tighter to himself and rocking to Duncan's motion.

A moment more of mindless pleasure and Scott got the sudden clarity that this was wrong.  The voice of reason that had kept him safe for so long seemed to finally break through the alcohol and pleasure induced haze to ring warning bells and tell him to stop.  He opened his eyes and forced himself to still.

"Duncan… Wait…"  He couldn't help but gasp it out at the feeling of Duncan continuing to ride his leg.  Duncan didn't stop though.  Instead he dropped his head to Scott's neck and fastened his teeth there, hard enough that it would surely mark.  He all but arched against Duncan at that, hips resuming their rocking with more fervor than before.  Apparently his body had no intentions of listening to his minds demand to stop.

"We have to…get to a room…"  He still felt the need to at least attempt some type of sanity.  Lord knew who might walk out onto the balcony, or who already had.  Duncan loosed his teeth from Scott's neck so he could speak.

"Just shut up and enjoy it, Summers," he breathed, in a voice that was as strained at Scott's.

"But..." he was very effectively cut off by Duncan's mouth over his, tongue sweeping in as he gasped in surprise.  Coherent thought seemed to flee and he moaned.

Shut up, - loosen up – and enjoy it.  That was something he could do.  For one night at any rate.


	2. Chapter Two

Oh look! Chapter two. And it's only been done for about two months before I got around to posting it… Um… This chapter deserves the R rating so if you don't like then go away. Or at least don't bitch about it if you decide to read.

Thanks to lovely Lizz for doing the beta reading. Wow was it ever a piece of crap before that…

So enjoy and please leave a review.

Chapter Two

There were some things that were better off never being mentioned again. The other night would definitely count as one of them, at least in Scott's opinion. He was pretty sure that Duncan would agree with him.

Of course it was easy to never mention something again. Never thinking about it, however, was an entirely different matter. Which Scott was discovering as he sat up in his room, still in bed far past the usual time, thinking about Duncan. Again.

And he wasn't thinking the usual thoughts of bitter anger, although those were certainly present. No, these thoughts were altogether different and something he should most certainly not be thinking regarding his mortal enemy. Or **any** teenage boy, come to that.

Shouldn't be thinking of the hard, heavy weight pressing him in to the floorboards of Duncan's balcony. Shouldn't be thinking of Duncan's calloused **male** hands tugging away clothing to glide over skin. Sure as hell shouldn't be thinking of how absolutely fucking great it was to be taken by the other boy. A feeling that stayed with him now whenever he moved.

He **wasn't** gay. Had never even **thought** of another male that way. Except a brief passing thought about Josh Harnet. But surely **that** didn't count, right?

He had a girlfriend. Or…pretty close to one anyway. Things may have been a little iffy between them right then. Sure she had told him to stay away from her. But things would smooth over and they could go back to being the happy not-couple they were.

So he really shouldn't be thinking about Duncan. In fact, he should be angry at the guy. It was him and his stupid drinking contest that had gotten Scott into trouble with Jean in the first place. This, of course, simply brought back to mind thoughts of what else had happened because of that drinking contest. Why couldn't he have been drunk enough to forget it all?

He groaned to himself, frustrated and angry. Shifted his hips and thought that he could **really** use a cold shower right about then. It was after 10 am and, actually, he should have been getting up anyway.

Not that he actually moved other than to let a hand slip down his stomach and under the waistband of his boxers. Guilty pleasure there. And he really shouldn't be thinking about Duncan and getting off. He'd think about Jean, but that just made him blush.

He wondered if she'd been tuned into his brain this entire time. Felt himself go ice cold with the thought. Maybe the Prof had been listening…well, that was certainly one way to kill improper desires. Far better than a cold shower. God, he hoped his mind was just overreacting.

There was a knock at the door.

He swallowed and glanced towards it with guilty fear. Probably just someone come to check and see why he wasn't up yet. Certainly not Jean or the Prof wanting to find out just how screwed up he really was.

Another knock. "Scott?"

Oh God, oh God, oh God… "Come in, Jean." He was fairly positive that his voice didn't crack. Much.

She stepped in, a look of mild curiosity on her face. He stayed where he was, still in bed bundled under the blankets but leant up against the headboard. Cleared his throat and studiously did **not** think about Duncan. Especially not the way his hands did that thing… He wondered what Jean would do if he started banging his head against the wall. Probably call the white coats. It's more than likely she should anyway as there was something obviously wrong with his head.

"Did you want something?" Trying to sound pleasant and **not** like he wanted to get her out of the room as fast as possible.

"You weren't down for breakfast and I wanted to come and see if you were okay." Her voice held concern. Odd, since the last time he spoke to her, two days ago, she had been very pissed off. She must have gotten over the fact that he had been drinking with Duncan.

Don't think of Duncan, don't think of Duncan, don't think of…

"I'm fine. I guess I was just tired. Slept in a bit." Nice calm voice.

She seemed to be indecisive for a moment before stepping further in to the room. Sat on the edge of his bed.

"I was thinking we need to talk a bit as well."

"Oh?" He shifted away from her a bit. Like that would make a difference in her ability to read his mind.

Don't think about Duncan… Did thinking about not thinking about Duncan count as thinking about him? He concentrated on song lyrics instead.

She nodded slightly. Gave him a vaguely odd look. Probably the fact that he was projecting the song _Mandy_. "About what happened at Duncan's."

He tried not to choke as he inhaled. Oh God, she knew. But he decided to play dumb anyway. "What happened at Duncan's?" He felt proud that he could say that name out loud without blushing.

The look she gave him was irritated and vaguely frustrated. "When you acted like an idiot and we fought? Don't tell me you don't remember." Cleary whatever scrap of patience she'd had for him was lost.

He looked at her blankly for a moment. Saw the expression on her face darken before it clicked. "Oh. Right. That."

"Yes. That." Now she sounded outright pissed. He remembered that same tone from the party.

"Jean… I'm sorry. But I'm really not feeling too great right now. Can we talk about this later?" A blatant lie. Which he'd feel bad for later he was sure. He felt fine. Scared as hell that any moment now she'd find out exactly what he **did** remember about that night.

Don't think about Duncan…

If looks could kill… Well, he'd have been dead long before now for one thing.

"Whatever, Scott." She shook her head in obvious annoyance and stood and stormed out of the room. Slammed the door behind her.

He sighed. He really needed to do something about this little… obsession, though he used the term loosely, with Duncan.

Once again Duncan was wrecking his and Jeans non-relationship. Even if it was in an entirely different way from usual. He was about to relax back against the pillows when a telepathic voice floated in to his head.

Scott?

He sighed again. Yes, Professor?

You've been having some rather strong thoughts about Duncan this morning. Straightforward and to the point.

Oh crap. I… um… It's nothing, sir.

There's nothing to be ashamed of, Scott.

I'm not, sir. Just horribly messed up and he really did need to learn to keep his thoughts to himself.

Scott. There is nothing wrong with thinking another male attractive. He sounded caring and understanding. He always did. Usually it helped. This time it made Scott want to crawl under the blankets and hide from it.

I don't find Duncan… attractive. God, he couldn't even think the word. Not attached to Duncan. Jean was attractive. Duncan was not.

He was sure the Professor gave a telepathic sigh. If you'd like to talk, Scott.

Only there was nothing to talk about so Scott remained silent. Because he wasn't gay. Or even bi. He had only been drunk. And now… now he was…now… Dammit. He was **not** gay.

Could his day possibly get any worse? He was definitely going to lock himself in his room when the next party hit.

* * *

Apparently the day could get worse. Much, **much** worse.

Go out onto the track and clear his mind. It had seemed like a good plan. Run laps until the sweat trickled under the glasses and his muscles burned with the strain. Until he couldn't think of anything else. Certainly not Duncan. Literally try to out run his problems.

So far it wasn't working.

Sweat reminded him of sweat slick bodies moving together. Arching his neck, head rolled back on the floorboards as Duncan's tongue was dragged across slick skin. Aching burn as Duncan slid in to him, made him groan and writhe.

Running really was not working so far. He pushed it up a notch. Ran faster. Hopefully left the thoughts behind. Blank mind.

To an extent it started to work. The thoughts stopped coming as he concentrated on making himself run hard. Long. Past his limit and he was going to be unable to move by tomorrow.

He ran until he could no longer keep going. Until he was too exhausted to stand. Until he was far too exhausted to think.

He was on the track at the school so it was easy to go in and grab a shower. The locker room was deserted. Not many kids wanted to see school during summer vacations. Or at all really.

The showers were as deserted as the rest of the place for which he was grateful. God knows what would happen if he'd had to shower with a bunch of other guys. Absolutely nothing because he was **not** gay. Not.

Only now the thought was in his head and he's fairly confident that there's probably some gay porn show that starts like that. Sweaty guys jerking off in the shower together. Great.

Banishing the vision from his head he stripped out of sticky damp clothes and padded barefoot to the showers. Twisted the taps until a blast of lukewarm water hit him. The best he was going to get here. If he got lucky it would at least hit warm after a moment or two of letting the water run.

Grabbed the soap that he had set there earlier and lathered up. Ran the bar over his chest and studiously did **not** think about Duncan's hands running over the same place. Did not think about Duncan's muscle's moving under his own hands. Didn't think about the guy's gasps of pleasure as his fingers found and teased more sensitive areas.

Ignored the erection that was beginning to rise. Cleaned around it because he was not going to touch himself while thinking of Duncan. Almost had earlier and he felt perversely thankful for Jean's intrusion. Because he's not gay.

"Thinking about me?"

The sudden voice echoed off the tiles. Scott yelped in surprise and spun rather abruptly to face the speaker. Duncan. Looking smug and with a towel slung around his waist. It was obvious he'd been working out from the slight sheen of sweat that glistened off his skin.

Instantly, he could feel his face color and he turned back around to hide the already noticed arousal. Tried to make it look detached. Like he'd seen who it was and couldn't be bothered. Definitely wasn't about to tell Duncan that, yes, he had just been thinking about him. Had been thinking about him all day in fact.

"Don't flatter yourself, Matthews."

Tried to ignore him and get the shower over with. Get the hell out of there. Not an easy thing to do when Duncan stepped past him to lean against the tiles. Watched.

He gave Duncan a thoroughly irritated look, thankful for the glasses that hid his eyes and made it easier to hide his emotions. Even if they were starting to steam up as the water finally began to warm.

"Did you want something?" Biting tone. Immediately wished that he hadn't said a thing. Duncan smirked at him, looked him over with a pointedly raised eyebrow. Scott couldn't help but let his own eyes slip down. The towel did nothing to hide Duncan's own arousal. He swallowed. Snapped his eyes back up and stared hard at the tiles. Ignored Duncan's amused chuckle.

Couldn't quite ignore it when Duncan moved. Couldn't ignore the brisk step taken toward Scott and suddenly there was a warm body pressed along his back. Big hands were on his hips holding him still, not that he actually tried to move. The rough fabric of the towel rubbed against his backside. A soft breath in his ear.

He could hear the smirk in Duncan's voice. "Does this answer your question, Summers?" And he rolled his hips forward against Scott's ass. Made him groan.

"Duncan." Said in warning. Telling him to back off. Probably would have been more effective if it hadn't had that hint of want in it.

Obviously Duncan had heard it because he didn't move away. Instead, he dropped a hand from Scott's hip to give the towel a tug and let it fall to the ground. Then he rocked his erection against Scott again. He reached a hand around to touch Scott where he really didn't need any encouragement.

Scott could feel himself moan more than hear it.

"I'm not gay." Came out with a gasp, as Duncan's foot nudged against the inside of his legs, encouraging him to widen his stance. He did so without complaint. Tilted his head to look back over his shoulder at Duncan. Saw Duncan give him a shrug.

"Who cares? I'm getting off, you're getting off. Everybody's happy." Obviously just working on the hormones of horny teenager and not bothering himself to care about anything else. Duncan never did think very much, went with instinct. Simpler maybe. Stupider certainly.

Scott couldn't find it in him to care much as fingers slipped between them and explored. Threw himself into instinct as well. Cried out as he was breached for a second time.

He still wasn't gay though. Really.

* * *

As if he didn't have enough problems with being a mutant. As if people didn't have enough things to hate and ridicule him over. As if his mind wasn't already screwed up enough.

No. He had to get it bad for a guy. And, of course, not just any guy. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if it had been Paul or Kurt. Hell, even Lance would have been preferable. Maybe. But it had to be Duncan.

Oh yeah. He had a major hard on for Duncan. Nothing could be worse than that. Except, maybe the fact that he had let Duncan fuck him twice now. Had wanted it. Now wanted it again.

He had managed to come to at least some peace with that now. He wanted Duncan. Wanted to feel him.

So maybe he was a little more gay than he'd thought. Not that anyone needed to know that… Except Duncan, of course. Unless he really was as dense as he looked and had actually believed Scott when he'd said 'I'm not gay'. Never mind the fact that he had been naked and willingly spreading his legs while he'd said it.

He may have been a little bit bitter towards the guy. After all, his life had been perfectly, or close enough, happy. He'd known what was what, where he was going and what he was doing. Then Duncan had come along and turned it all upside down.

At least he still knew what he wanted. Unfortunately, what he wanted was really what he shouldn't be thinking about. Wrong. He was gay and it was wrong. Hardly fit in with the image of perfect leader that he had got going. Which was exactly what he had wanted. To quit being perfect and have everything expected of him. To quit having to try so damned hard in everything he did. To quit having people look at him and expect more.

Duncan didn't expect more. Didn't expect him to lead the way, didn't expect him to try so much. Just to be there, to bend over, and to enjoy himself. God, did he enjoy himself.

It was… freeing. To give the control up to Duncan and let **him** take the pressure. Let himself just feel. Shifted restlessly in the seat of his car as he drove back to the mansion. He could definitely feel it. Let his eyes slip closed at it. Snapped them back open a moment later when he realized he really should be watching the road.

So… maybe he wanted this a bit. A lot. Wouldn't argue if Duncan came to him again but wouldn't seek him out either. He wanted it. He didn't need it. Wondered if Duncan wanted it just as much. Seemed to.

Gay. He shook his head. Couldn't even blame it on the alcohol this time.


	3. Chapter Three

Well, after thinking about it for awhile I've decided to post this. I was going to add another chapter to draw it out a bit more but I just really want to have this story over. So this is the last chapter and hope you'll like. The humor kind of… went away. It was fun though and look! I actually finished a story. Shocking. Thanks to those who reviewed and thanks to Lizz for beta reading. Do enjoy!

**Chapter Three**

Lance or Duncan? Duncan. Paul or Duncan? Duncan. Kurt or Duncan? …Duncan.

Each time the answer would come out the same. Any guy, it didn't matter. It was always Duncan that came out on top. Duncan that he would prefer. Duncan that he found better. Duncan that he would rather have. He didn't even really have to think about it. The answer just came. It was Duncan.

Kitty or Duncan? Rogue or Duncan?

Jean or Duncan?

Duncan. Every time. Always. Duncan was what he wanted. What he had to have.

He avoided it as much as he could. Because he couldn't have it. It was wrong. Fine, he was gay. It didn't mean he had to act on it.

That didn't stop him from thinking about it. Constantly. To the point where his need boiled over and it was either hunt Duncan down or jerk off in the shower. He always chose the latter and pictured Duncan on his knees before him. Wondered what it would take to actually get Duncan in that position. Probably nothing short of a gun. Which would probably be a bad idea.

Granted everything he'd done lately had been a bad idea. Wrong. Everything was wrong. He was wrong. Sick and twisted and wrong.

There was the sound of cracking glass and stinging pain shot through his hand. He jumped, glanced down at his hand and the shattered glass it still held. Water and blood mixed to drip onto the tiled floor of the kitchen. He hadn't even noticed the crushing grip he'd had on the glass of water he'd come down for.

He sighed to himself. He really was losing it. The broken glass was thrown in the garbage as he quickly cleaned the mess from the floor. Luckily no one had been there to see his lapse in concentration. Lapse in any awareness at all really. Because Duncan eclipsed everything.

He shook his head in frustration. Fisted his already bleeding hand and slammed it into the fridge. Which kind of hurt and he could swear that something just cracked. With a whimper he drew his hand back. The fridge had dented. Ow…

"Scott! Mein Gott, are you okay?"

He blinked at the sudden blur of blue that invaded his vision. "Yeah, Kurt, I'm- Ow! Hey, ow!" This as two fingered hands were taking his injured one to inspect. He jerked his hand back, cradled it against his chest and gave Kurt a glare.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. "You're what?"

"I'm fine." As he still held his hand carefully to his chest to protect it from the evil blue furred hands.

Kurt didn't seem to believe him. "I think we'd better get you to see Hank."

* * *

"Why don't you tell me what's been going on, Scott?" 

He was sitting in the Professor's office, a cast over his now broken knuckles and feeling like an idiot. The unflappable leader had snapped and by now everyone knew. And all over Duncan. At least he had managed to get the guy off his mind for a little while. Breaking his hand probably hadn't been the best way to go about doing that though. He'd find better ways in the future.

He only shrugged in reply to the Professor's question. "It's nothing, sir. I just… A little bit stressed out."

"Perhaps the next time you could go down to the Danger Room instead of taking it out on the appliances."

He dropped his head, ashamed. Not so much because he had lost his temper but because it had been over Duncan. "I'm sorry, sir."

"You don't need to be sorry, Scott. I just wish that you'd talk to me about it."

"I will. I just… I have to get down to the Danger Room. Logan wanted me to program in tonight's sessions." He was already standing, heading to the door before the Professor could try and stop him. The Professor didn't say anything though. Watched him leave with a disturbed frown.

He didn't head down to the Danger Room. True Logan had wanted the programming done but he already had. Earlier that morning when everyone else had still been asleep but he hadn't been able to. Because whenever he slept he'd dream. Duncan would not leave him alone.

There had to be a way to exorcise Duncan from his mind. Hurting himself had worked. Too focused on the pain of broken bones to think of Duncan. But that called attention to himself that he didn't want. The Professor was already worried. Scott didn't want him finding out just how screwed up he was. How wrong.

And now he couldn't even throw himself into training as usual. That's the way it always went. Something bothered him and he'd train. Train until he couldn't think about it anymore. About anything. Focus on doing it all perfect. No room for anything else. No time for anything else.

Lots of time now. No training for weeks. Couldn't work on his car with one hand. Middle of summer so he couldn't exactly do school work. Lots of time to think.

Think of Duncan pressing against him. Hands trailing over skin, lips and tongue following…

He shook his head of the thoughts before they could go too far. He hadn't even realized when he'd walked out of the mansion and down the long driveway. Decided to keep going. Just walk and see where it would take him. Out through the metal gates and off down the sidewalk. It didn't take much to fall into thoughts of Duncan again. Let everything fall away.

He walked without seeing until he ran right into something, stumbling back. The sound of laughter reached his ears and he frowned. Actually paid attention to what was in front of him.

"Little hard to see behind those glasses of yours, Summers?"

"…Duncan." Duncan who was grinning at him in a not at all nice way. Duncan whose two buddies were standing behind him and looking at Scott like he was the most amusing idiot they had seen. Scott swallowed. Stepped back and to the side to let them pass, eyes never leaving Duncan. Obvious even from behind the cover of his sunglasses.

Duncan's eyes narrowed at him. "Something interesting?"

"No, I-"It was as far as he got before a big hand - so gentle and knowing at other times - was dealing him a hard shove to the chest. Knocking him off the curb and onto the street. He stared at Duncan in shock.

One of Duncan's cronies stepped up a bit closer, grin plastered over his face as he spoke. Nearly leered at Scott. "Starin' at you pretty hard, Dunc. Think maybe he has the hots for you?"

Scott took another step back. Looked between Duncan and his buddie. Didn't get the chance to speak in protest before Duncan was stepping off the curb and up to him. Grabbing him by the jacket lapels and jerking him up close. He could feel Duncan's breath on his face.

Duncan was sneering at him, unabashed look of humor in his eyes. "That true, Summers? You a faggot now?"

"What? I-" He nearly stuttered, sounding absolutely baffled. Staring at Duncan in utter confusion Scott saw his look soften for a moment before he sneered again. Shoved Scott hard enough that he stumbled back again, nearly falling but managing to catch himself. He was still staring at Duncan in bafflement.

Duncan stepped forward, bringing them close once more. Scott couldn't seem to force himself to react fast enough as Duncan's eyes flicked briefly down to the cast over his hand before bringing a fist up and cracking Scott across the face in a backhanded blow. The hit staggered him, knocked him to one knee as he gasped.

When he glanced up, breath heavier, Duncan was leaning over him. Smugly satisfied look on his face. Behind him, his... cronies really, were snickering. "Better start staring at someone else, fag."

"But yo-" He started speaking without really thinking still lost in the situation - Duncan. Duncan was hitting him for being gay - when another strike from Duncan stopped him. Knocked him to the side and blood dripped from his lip.

"I say you could speak?"

He wouldn't have had the time to answer even if he could formulate one. Duncan was advancing on him once more, the other two remaining on the sidewalk, watching and laughing. Scott braced himself for another hit. Then frowned when Duncan seemed to hesitate, hoping that maybe he would end this. See some sense or even feel some pity.

He shoved himself to his feet at Duncan's hesitation, stepping back again in case Duncan pressed. His head spun. What seemed like the distant sound of a motorbike reached his ears but he didn't turn his attention away from Duncan. Didn't trust him not to attack again.

But Duncan was stepping back away from him and the sudden appearance of Logan in his view startled Scott. The world seemed to spin again as everything had taken on a surreal view. Scott could only watch as Logan practically growled at Duncan to leave. With a brief glance at Scott Duncan did so, taking his buddies with him.

"See you 'round, fag," was thrown over Duncan's shoulder as he left. Scott could feel his face flush with heat as he looked down. Duncan was right after all.

Logan was still there, was looking at him in concern. Scott refused to look back, kept his gaze firmly planted on the ground. Logan couldn't believe what Duncan had said. Scott didn't want to look up and see that he did.

"You alright, kid?"

"I'm fine, Logan." Though clearly he wasn't. Still dazed from the hits. Angry and frustrated over everything. He spoke shortly, still refusing to look at Logan. He just wanted out of the situation.

Logan seemed disconcerted for a moment before trying again. "Come on, I'll give you a ride back to the mansion. Get Hank to fix you up."

"I'm **fine**, Logan."

"Scott…" His tone was warning. Telling Scott without so many words to get on the bike now. Scott ignored him. Stepped past Logan to get away.

Logan didn't call him back as he stepped briskly off and down the sidewalk heading away from the mansion. After a few moments Scott could hear the sound of Logan's bike pulling off. Hopefully not to go and get the Professor.

His shoulders slumped once he was sure that he was out of sight. That Logan wasn't going to come back for him. Didn't care to notice when his steps took him to the lookout. It somehow always seemed the best place to be when he didn't particularly want to be anywhere.

* * *

As always the lookout was deserted when he reached it. He leant up against a tree, stared out over the town and hated everything about it. All the clueless people and their pathetically uncomplicated lives. 

Just once he'd like that. To have it that easy. No mutants, no being… gay. No obsessing over Duncan.

Duncan. God.

He brought his fingers up to his lip. It had stopped bleeding but it still stung. Sighing to himself he pushed off the tree, wandering closer to the edge of the lookout. He angrily kicked a rock over the edge, watched as it tumbled down.

It shouldn't have surprised him that Duncan would do this. Get Scott for being gay even if he was clearly less than straight himself. And now by tomorrow everyone else would know. Everyone would know what a freak he was. Wouldn't matter what he said. Everyone would know how wrong and twisted…

Everything was out of control so easily. Duncan was the cause for all of it. He was losing control and Duncan was the crux of that.

By tomorrow he would have lost everything. He wouldn't be a leader or a friend or an example…not even a secret lover. There would be nothing left because he had let Duncan come in and take the control from him.

His hand tightened to a fist at his sides. There had to be a way to stop this. To stop this downward spiral that he found himself on. To stop Duncan from taking over and ruining everything. To get control back.

The crunch of boots on gravel told him someone was there. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. He'd known Duncan would come. To apologize? Maybe if he did it would have fixed everything.

"Thinking about killing yourself now, Summers? Didn't realize you were so sensitive." He stepped closer behind Scott, speaking in his customary patronizing tone. He didn't even sound like he cared. Seemed amused by the idea.

Scott merely clenched his hand a bit harder, the other still hanging from the cast. He spoke through gritted teeth. "What do you want, Duncan?"

Full press of Duncan suddenly along his back and he couldn't stop himself from gasping. Had to force himself not to lean back as Duncan spoke close to his ear. "Take a guess."

His hand slipped around over Scott's hip, cupped the front of his jeans. Scott had to force back a moan. Dropped his hand to hover over Duncan's in a moment of hesitation before taking hold of it and roughly forcing it away. He spun to face Duncan shoving him back with a hand to his chest.

"No."

Duncan only rocked back a step from the push. Raised an eyebrow at Scott's refusal. "No?" He still sounded amused. As though Scott were playing some joke. Stepped back up to him but was met with Scott's hand back on his chest, keeping him away.

Scott scowled at him. "Back off, Duncan."

Duncan only smirked. Drew fingers along Scott's arm in a supposedly tempting touch. "What's the big deal, Summers? I know you want this." He glanced pointedly down at Scott's jeans.

"I'm not gay." He refused to be. And if it wasn't for Duncan he wouldn't be.

Duncan rolled his eyes at the denial. "By tomorrow everybody is going to know it."

"No they won't."

"How do you-"The heavy plaster cast on Scott's hand slammed into the side of his head, cutting his words off and this time Duncan did stagger back. Before he could gather himself Scott swung the cast again into. Duncan dropped to the ground with a groan, hands raised to cradle his head.

Scott stood over him for a moment sneer on his face before turning to walk away. "They won't know. And this… whatever the fuck this is, this is done." He ignored Duncan still on the ground as he walked to the trees. Grabbed hold of a branch and wrenched it off in his hand. "I will make sure of that."

Duncan's eyes grew larger as he watched Scott walk back, branch in hand. "Jesus, Summers…" He sounded scared. Scott reveled in it. No one would know about him. Duncan would be out of the picture and his life could go back to normal. Perfect leader, perfect student… Just perfect.

"You ruined everything. Me and Jean." He brought the branch down over Duncan. Thick and heavy it cracked against his knee and Duncan cried out in pain. "Any chance I had at leading." The branch collided with Duncan's head with a sickening crack. Duncan slumped to the ground, dazed pleading eyes staring up at Scott. Scott could only feel his rage increase.

"Scott…"

"Shut up. You're going to say my name now? And that's going to make a difference?" He was disgusted. Nothing would make a difference now. Nothing would stop what Duncan had started. He brought the branch down on him again. And again.

The distant sound of a motorbike reached him. He ignored it. Duncan was unconscious at his feet. He didn't stop. Because he was dirty and wrong and twisted… And it was Duncan's fault.

The bike's distant purr became a sudden roar and strong hands were pulling him back. Away from Duncan. He struggled to get back. The branch was torn from his hands and he was shoved back with enough force to knock him to the dirt. A metal claw was waved in his face.

"You stay there, kid." Logan didn't even bother to wait and see if Scott would do as he said. Turned to Duncan and swore under his breath. He spoke quickly into the comm. Calling for an ambulance. Scott stayed where he was and listened.

It was a moment before Logan turned back to Scott. Barely disguised look of shocked disappointment on his face. "You wanna tell me what the hell this is about?"

Scott shook his head, looked down speaking in a barely audible voice that he knew Logan would here. "He ruined everything."

"Looks to me like you did a pretty good job of that on your own." Shaking his head he turned back to Duncan. Ignored Scott as he did what he could for the boy. Scott watched in silence.

He had ruined everything.

end-


End file.
